Demons In Our Hearts
by InvisibleGeek
Summary: "I used to get into a lot of fights, and when I stopped that somehow convinced me of a change. I thought it made me a better person, the type of person Dad wanted me to be. I was wrong. I haven't changed at all." Drabble series - Requests are welcome, just PM me. *On Hold*
1. Chapter 1

**Demons in Our Hearts 1**

 **10 Years Ago, July 15th**

The sun's heated rays beat down on residents of a neighborhood park, panting dogs and sweaty humans alike resting in the shadows. It was hot, a baking 92 degrees without a cloud in the sky.

A graying man with tinted glasses settled contentedly into a tree's shade, his rapidly cooling body praising a break from the heat. His sons fared no better, their once active play dwindling down as their bodies shook with labored pants. With long, exaggerated steps they made their way from the playground up the hill, collapsing at their father's side and gasping for water.

With chuckles that shook his chest he complied, opening the ice chest and pulling out two water bottles slick with perspiration. The children let out gleeful squeals, snatching the bottles in their small hands and attacking the caps.

The younger, glasses adorned brother opened it with patient ease, bringing it to his dry lips and letting the icy liquid roll soothingly down his throat. Occasionally his eager gulping would become sloppy, and slow, glistening drops would slide down his chin. The other boy hadn't his siblings aptitude for waiting, and after a failed attempt at removing the plastic he groaned, pressing the bottle his sticky forehead in an attempt to cool off. The bottles perspiration mixed with his sweat, and the child's thick locks were soon stuck curled to his scalp.

Their father chuckled, leaning forwards and taking the bottle from his exhausted yet grateful child. The youngster wasn't the type to ask for help, he oftentimes didn't seem to know how. Breaking the plastic bond with a satisfying snap the father removed the twisted cap and returned it to his child, who eagerly grasped it. "You should ask for help Rin," The gray haired man scolded, a smile tugging at his lips as the youngster downed the beverage, vibrant blue eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Quickly he drained the liquid from it's source, dramatically dropping the plastic container and collapsing to the ground. The younger and surprisingly neat twin returned his cap to it's home, holding the chilled bottle to his cheek as he leaned partly back. His position was continually shifting in his attempt to mirror the causal ease of his father, the heat beginning to lose it's oppressive hold as he cooled off.

Shiro sighed, leaning back against the massive tree that proudly shaded the family. He and his son's watched the quiet goings of the park, Yukio occasionally glancing to his father for a sign of approval. Rin was an excitable six year old, and as he laid in the thick grass he searched for ants. The insects busied themselves with foreign objectives, either oblivious or indifferent towards the alert blue eyes following them.

A sharp but distant bark of laughter, the heavier tones of a man's uplifted by the ringing mother's. Down below, where the park's grassy edge curled into the sudden embrace of the pond, a family of four played. Two boys, one considerably taller than the other, played eagerly with their smiling parents. The older one, as though imitating the proud, ruby breasted robin, hopped carelessly by the shore's edge. Just as his mother warned, he fell in, and the resulting scowl sent his parents into peals of laughter.

Shiro, although initially drawn to the sound, lost interest and focused yet again on the actions of his boys. To his surprise, Rin and Yukio neglected the refocusing of their attention. They continued to stare at the family, a still air settling that was strange in it's association with the young twins.

Curiously, the older of the two, with black hair falling across his sweaty face, turned to address his parent, nose twisted with a question. Nuzzling into his father's lap he blinked owlishly up at him, cheeks red. "Daddy, why don't we have a mom?"

Shiro sucked in a breath, the ever intelligent Yukio also turning to his sole guardian. The child rubbed at his glasses, not quite used to them, and nodded firmly in agreement. "Yeah Daddy how come?" The younger twin reverted back to his crawling, approaching Shiro then leaning against his side. Although their close proximity helped not with the heat, it did provide a calming sense of comfort that his children, like others, needed.

Shiro hid his discomfort behind his smile, his voice rough from years of smoking. "Why so concerned? Don't you think Daddy takes care of you fine on his own?"

While Rin relinquished a smile at this, Yukio frowned, brows furrowing adorably. "Well, yeah.." He began, only to be interrupted by his gray haired parent. "Let's go get popcicles on the way home, sound good?"

It was as though they had been given the world, their vibrant blue eyes lit with the fires a joy. Both the boys cheered, troubled thoughts forgotten with the exciting thought of frozen treats to come.

Shiro gathered their things, leading his son's down the hill with a quiet smile. He understood that in a few years, the question wouldn't be avoided so easily, and it was a prospect that sent chills down his spine.

 _So this is an idea that I've been kicking around for a while and I've decided to go for it. A drabble type series about their lives before the show, and maybe some after._


	2. Chapter 2

**Demons in Our Hearts 2**

* * *

"I used to get into a lot of fights, and when I stopped that somehow convinced me of a change. I thought it made me a better person, the type of person Dad wanted me to be. I was wrong. I haven't changed at all. I'm still that kid inside, the little brat that couldn't ever get his life together."

* * *

 **10 years ago, August 21th**

Rin ran through the monastery, tiny shoes tapping loudly on the aged wooden floors and paled streetlight streaking in through the stained glass windows. It pooled across the ground, swirling in colored arrays of dust and carving grayed patterns into the wood. The rough-neck child was a bundle of un-containable excited energy, and he couldn't hardly wait for it to be time to go. His speed increased as he ran, spinning past streaming beams of light and dodging through church pews.

"It's the first day of school!" He exclaimed with a loud, bubbling laugh, taking a sharp turn in between two backed benches and accidentally colliding with the oak wood. The dark-haired child collapsed, hitting his head jarringly and landing awkwardly. Albeit this did nothing to diminish his jubilance and after a brief moment of pained hissing he jumped up and into the seat. "Hurry up Yukio!" He yelled, hopping wildly from seat to seat, cerulean eyes twinkling.

"C-coming Rin!" His nervous twin replied, clutching his book bag tightly and scurrying down the stairs. His dark brown hair was nearly combed and his glasses spot free. Behind them lay turquoise orbs watching his brother barley make the space between pews. Close behind Yukio was their Father, Shiro Fujimoto. His maroon eyes seemed to expect the older twins rough housing, as they held no glimmer of surprise behind the glint of his glasses. "Now Rin, you know better than to play on the furniture." The glasses adorned priest scolded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. In his arms he held two child sized rain ponchos, and a quick glance out a passing window confirmed their necessity. Water streaked down from the cloud obscured heavens, and far off thunder's sudden quaking startled the younger twin, whose grip on his bag loosened considerably.

Seeing his timid brother gasp and stare wide-eyed at the sky, Rin blew hair out of his face and pitter-pattered to his side. He grabbed Yukio's hands and grinned cheekily, ignoring the now fallen book bag. "It'll be okay Yukio!" He said in his gravelly voice, pulling the younger's shaken gaze away from the shadowed sky and towards his glowing features. "Don't worry about that, it's just the crummy weather. You should be happy for school!" Unable to express his joyful anticipation with mere words he let go of his startled brothers hands and lept into the air, spinning about and whooping. In an act of forgetfulness he began to climb onto a church pew again, stopping only at a sigh from his father. "Rin.." The graying guardian warned, keeping his smile solely inward at the child's antics. He took one final step off the humble staircase and stopped, blue and red pendant glittering. Across the room, Rin frowned at being reprimanded, but listened never the less and climbed down from the seat. His tussled locks fell down over his eyes, and some of the longer strands curled atop his rounded cheeks, flushed from exercise. "Yes daddy." He mumbled, making his way over to the pair with long, dragged steps.

The maroon eyed man looked down at his other son, frowning deeper when he saw the younger staring yet again out the previous window. His turquoise gaze was locked onto a drenched hobgoblin, whose gaunt, monkey-like face glared back at him. At every roll of thunder the creature screamed, pressing itself closer to the stained glass which refracted its warped features hauntingly. It was a terrifying pest, possessing rats and other scourges of the city with the intent of causing mischief. Rin, fortunately, was unaware of their existence, taking his brothers frightened demeanor as a part of his timid personality. Shiro knew that something had to be done before the child's fear grew too great.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a light pull on his sleeve, Yukio looking up at him expectantly. His tiny form trembled, and muted horror swam behind his glasses. The father cracked a splitting grin, smiling away his troubled thoughts. "Sorry about that kiddo! Your old man was off in la la land." The glasses adorned child seemed unconvinced, and his eyes held a terrified question in them. 'Do you see it?'

Rin, unknowingly excluded from their silent communication, huffed in frustration, crossing his arms. "Daddy you're always doing that. You are just like Yukio." He impatiently began to tug on on the ponchos, dark hair once again falling into his eyes. "Let's go already! Come on!"

The adult's focus remained on his glasses-adorned son, not paying the restive one's futile tugging any heed. It wasn't as though a five year old could take them from him.

The child sucked in a breath and pulled with all his strength, blood pumping and muscles stretching. With an animalistic cry he tore the garments from his now startled father's arms, flying across the wooden floor and landing with a pained hiss.

Shiro dumbly stared, mouth agape, as the durable Rin straightened, looking mildly surprised. He then shook his head animatedly, took off his book bag, and slipped into a poncho. The pale orange plastic stood out in the bright, albeit graying room, and for a terrified moment Shiro's maroon gaze remained locked intently on his eldest son. If he was already that strong, then his demon blood was stirring. The blackened shine on the priest's shoes glinted maliciously, and the image of a deceased woman's face fogged over his mind.

 _'Rin.'_

"Come on come on come on you guys!" The darker haired child impatiently demanded, forcing his twin to adorn his poncho and slip into his book bag straps.

' _What kind of person will you become?'_

The boys struggled to open the door, the screaming wind's voice reaching another alcove as it streaked through, blasting the children's hair back viscously.

 _'Your strength...'_

They continued to push open the thick, oak doors, oblivious to their Father's brooding form as the wind whirled.

 _'Will you submit to your birthright... To the curse you were born with?'_

Rin screamed, eyes widening as he took a solid step forward, veins popping as he opened the entryway a foot more. Rain and wind whipped past their coats, and the children shut their eyes against it.

' _Will you give in and become the monster the world condemns you to be?'_

The lights flickered under an extreme blast, and the children tumbled backwards, the door closing with a slam, leaving them soaked and mildly irritated."Daddy!" Rin angrily cried, sitting up and stomping over to his father. "It is time to go!" Even Yukio seemed annoyed, looking between Rin and Shiro with dissatisfaction.

The graying man laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "You're absolutely right kiddo, we wouldn't want to be late. Especially since your teacher Ms. Ino is so good lookin'."

"EEEWWW!" The twins cried, sticking out their tongues with soured features. "Daddy you are so gross." Yukio said, shaking his head disapprovingly while standing up.

The maroon eyed man winked, chuckling as he opened his umbrella. "You'll understand some day, my boys." Rin snorted, putting his hands to his hips and standing right of Shiro. "No way! I don't think I could ever like girls, they smell funny."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, Asuka always smells and she's a girl."

Yukio dropped his two cents, brows furrowed behind his glasses. "But Rin! Asuka doesn't have plumbing." He stretched out the unfamiliar word, as though holding it in his mouth to inspect the taste.

The dark haired twin paused, thinking over his brother's words. Then he shrugged, a tinge of distaste coating his tone. "She still smells."


	3. Chapter 3

**Demons in Our Hearts 3**

"Ever since Rin was little, he has struggled with anger. It's not that he gets angry easily, he is a pretty mellow guy. It's that when the rage hits, it only grows. He loses control, and doing so terrifies him like nothing else."

 **10 years ago, September 4th**

* * *

Rin woke from his nap at school feeling strange. He laid on his back for a while, staring unconsciously at the off-white, water stained ceiling, mulling over the odd sensation. A dull ache, like a shadow of pain, rested beyond his brow, and his stomach felt as though it was trapped within his constricted chest. His breathing was shallow, and every noise the room made pounded its way into his mind.

His teeth gnashed, and he resisted the urge to tell everyone to shut up.

Their light snores pounded in imitation of echoing thunder, the teacher's keyboard pattering as softly as a charging elephant. His small fists curled in his light blanket, the dinosaur pattern obscured.

"Rin." A familiar voice whispered, and the dark-haired child rolled over to face his best friend, Katsu. The latter child had thin, brown hair, and his dark eyes sat sunken within his thinned face, which was constantly twisted in a smirk. Rin hadn't ever played with someone as mischievous as he, seeing as Yukio was so timid, and he was immediately drawn towards the troublemaker.

That odd stirring faded, and Rin shrugged it off and focused on his friend. Albeit, as his reply graced his lips, he was startled at the harshness coating his gravelly voice. "Yeah?" Momentarily taken aback, but treating it like a slip up, Katsu smirked, worming closer to his friend. "Want to play a game?" He was eager to cause trouble, and it showed in the gleam in his eyes.

For some reason the feeling came back, and Rin scowled, rolling back over. "It's nap time Katsu, go to sleep." Venom dripped from his words, yet he found he didn't care.

The feeling was intensifying.

The brunet didn't relent, and he prodded Rin on the shoulder, concern and a bit of irritation coloring his voice. "Hey I thought we were friends!"

"We are friends."

"Then why are you being mean?"

"I'm. Not."

"...you sure?"

"No. I'm just tired." This was a half truth; Rin wasn't at all tired, but suspected he was in fact being mean. Albeit he was blind to the reasoning behind it. Katsu's voice raked on his nerves, and the cerulean eyed child didn't retain the patience for his irritation to fade.

"Rin, you're like beast. At least that's what my Mommy says." The brunet spent the next sentence stuttering syllables, attempting to phrase it best. Due to the fact, he was unaware of the visible tension rising in his irate companion's shoulders. "I...I think she's right." He finally spat out his desired words, albeit leaving behind the reasoning and forethought foundation.

Where the sensation was dull pulsing before, now it was a full on flame. Katsu hadn't the time to process the change before a flying fist met his face.

The brown-haired trouble maker had been in fights before, how could he not with all the pranks he pulled, and in those elementary tuffs he'd been in pain. But that feeling was nothing like the rippling, scream-erupting agony he felt when Rin hit him.

And it didn't stop.

The cerulean eyed youngster let out a feral scream, waking the other students (some of them crying in fear) and striking alarm throughout the nearby faculty. With smoldering eyes he glared down at the fallen Katsu, who cradled his cheek in terror. "Take it back!" He demanded with a feral snarl, not noticing his now wide awake brother approach him. "Rin! Stop it! What's going on?"

Rin felt fevered with rage. It was hot, sticky, and it convulsed sickeningly within his stomach, causing his chest to heave with each inhaled breath. "Take. It. Back."

Yukio grabbed his brother's arm, only for his grip to be lost with a violent jerk. "Rin! Please!" He cried, taking a few steps back as Rin growled inhumanly. The way his pupils were dilated, the way he twisted his body into a hunched posture...he looked demonic. Yukio began to shake with fear, shadows of memories from when he was too young to remember flitted through his mind.

Mrs. Ino barked at the student teacher to get their father on the phone, and she hurriedly led the other children out of the room, a disoriented Yukio included.

Shaking, Katsu began to stand up, tears streaming down his cheeks. "She was right! Y-you are a monster..." Rin didn't move, didn't breathe, just stood stiff as though he had been paralyzed in place. As his former friend attempted to scramble away Rin roared, his childish voice strained and rough.

The other child hadn't ever seen such animosity before, hadn't been told of people behaving this way. He came to the disturbing realization that before today, he hadn't ever seen anger.

And now it stood before him.

Shaking, boiling, teeth bared like a wild dog's. Rin's rage was so profound and so consuming that it seemingly tore his childish rationality to shreds. This wasn't his playful classmate before him any longer, tossing desks aside as Katsu scrambled away.

"You're a demon." The brunet breathed, not having time to wonder how the enraged child heard him as he was tackled.

Rin sat on top of him, punching him as hard as he could, not stopping until something wet splattered over his hot cheeks. With shaking hands he reached up, touching the moisture with his finger tips. As if in slow motion he pulled his hands away, the awful, enraged feeling shifting away like shadows as he comprehended what had been done. There was blood on his fingertips, and, turning his palms forwards he saw the cooling, crimson liquid freckled over his knuckles.

Katsu lay limp beneath him, slipping in and out of consciousness as a dark bruise clouded beneath a bloodied nose. His eyes remained open, gazing without sight into the air above, chilling the violent child hauntingly.

If anything, his anger reinforced Katsu's words, and the fact was embedded into his memory as the blood cooled on his knuckles.

Rin backed away suddenly, his stomach violently jerking in result of his dissipated rage. Overflowed tears ran down his cheeks, but he was too wrapped up in his actions to pay any heed to their presence. He grabbed his thick, dark hair, tiny hands curling into fists as he screamed away all his anguish. It was a terrible, primal sound, and it left him hollow and bitter, shaking chest heaving.

"Rin!" A sharp, demanding voice called, the classroom door slamming open to reveal a graying priest. The crying child turned to his father, shaking, and with wide, cowardly eyes he scrambled away from the door. He sensed he was in trouble, but the magnitude of which was beyond his comprehension.

His first spout of uncontrollable anger had vanished entirely, leaving a terrified child behind. He didn't understand what he had done, and what the feeling was that had drove him to such extremes, all he knew was fear.

Shiro knelt down in front of his son, and the young boy's nervous resolve came crumbling down.


	4. Chapter 4

**Demons in our Hearts 4**

 **10 years ago, October 31**

The two boys were a few years shy from being able to wander the area without an adult, but the surrounding neighbors were dutiful church goers, their good nature ground into them by their Catholicism. The boys were safe here, and thus the priests consented to an early taste of freedom.

The older of the twins, Rin, was dressed amusingly as a vampire, plastic fangs jutting from his small mouth and a collared cape fluttering from his shoulders. It was by his stubborn, innocent command that the priests applied fake blood to his garb, the down-turned corners of his mouth comically 'dripping' a vibrant crimson. To bystanders, the child was an excitable mess on a sugar high, although he had none as of yet, and many smiles were shared at his deep villainous laugh. To him, however, he was a creature of the night, just a few bellowing cackles away from draining an arbitrary body of its reddened waters. A pillowcase rocked within his tight grasp, filled about halfway with sugary treats. This slowed him not, and he continued to bolt across lawns, breathlessly shrieking " _Tricker treat_!" with every opened door.

Albeit, his mummified sibling, a glasses wearing child who continually tripped over his draping strips of toilet paper, was not so energized. The excitement of the twilight was a feeling he could not reflect, for his bag was far too heavy and the night hid far too many demons. Indeed he shook with fright, ceasing his footsteps until he was made aware of his dawning isolation by a beckoning call from his sibling.

"Yukio!" His older brother shouted, gleefully waving a few yards away. His oblivious nature both bewildered and inspired Yukio, who wished he too could undertake the bliss of careless ignorance. "Wait up Rin!" He begged, little legs tired with the effort of the night but progressing forwards nevertheless. A stretched, pointed grin, features illuminated by a gold street light, and suddenly Yukio felt his feet leave the ground.

"YUKIO!" Rin barked, bolting into movement as he pressed to close the distance between him and his frightened sibling.

A firm hand, lacking the kindness of any he had known, grabbed the younger's shoulder firmly. He screamed with fright, waving his arms and dropping his candy. Another figure came into view, and Yukio was tossed to the pavement, glasses cracking on impact and tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.

The culprits, two elementary students in a higher grade, their costumes cheap replica's of popular sports figures. The ten year old boys scooped up Yukio's bag, laughing darkly at their prize. "M-my candy…" Yukio sobbed, reaching pathetically for it just as his panicked sibling reached him.

"Hey you big bullies!" He barked, spite twisting his features into a mask of frustrated youth. The injustice that clung to the scene washed away the exciting air of the holiday, tension solely remaining. The two ten year olds turned at the hateful call of the kindergartner, their annoyance equivalent to that of a fly's buzzing. "Go cry to your mommy kid, it's our candy now."

Yukio felt their malice was tangible, and with shaking legs he stood, clutching his broken glasses. "Rin, let's go get Daddy.." He sniffled, feeling terribly defeated.

His sibling would have none of it, glared at him for uttering the suggestion. "They'll get away Yukio! That's not right!" He turned to address the children, brows childishly furrowed. With an almost comical motion, he pointed firmly at the boys, spitting his words. "If you wanted candy you should've gone and got it yourself, stop taking other people's! Now give it back!"

The taller of the two snorted, crossing his arms. "Listen kid, I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna deal with this, now leave before I make you." The opposite kid jeered, his mouth disgustingly stuffed with stolen chocolate. It blackened his teeth, and as the former turned to retrieve his share of the goods, Rin launched himself into a tackle.

They hit the pavement, the ten year old beginning to cry as Rin pummeled him. His small fists carried quite the impact, and through his passioned fervor he spoke, voice thick. "You. made. my. baby. brother. cry. you. bully!" Each spat word was impacted with a punch, effectively sending the message home. Watching with frozen shock was the other bully, who couldn't seem to grasp the situation. He, unmarried but afraid, ran off in fearful panic. The bag of candy was dropped, partly split and lathered with a layer of glossy streetlight.

The remaining one's face was beginning to swell, as though an adolescent had struck him rather than a small child. Yukio fell back onto the ground, watching with stricken horror, his glasses remained in his childish grasp, chubby hands shaking. Although he couldn't see the scene clearly, the painful whimpers, incoherrent sobs, and muffled grunts painted the image for him.

Yukio stilled his trembling, forcing his muscles to move and return his cracked glasses to their place of usage.

As the punches flew and the ten year old cried for a reprieve, Yukio's young mind came to a conclusion he was by no means ready to grasp. His brother, whose plastic fangs curled over tight lips and fists landed with terrible power, resembled a demon. The vile creatures he had seen through windows and amongst storm drains-they shared the same wild rage his sibling did.

And with the fake blood coating his features and menacing expression, it wasn't hard to deduce the vile nature as it was.

Rin ceased his beating, taking shallow, rattling breaths and wiping impassioned tears from his eyes. He always cried when he fought, the emotions were too big for someone of his little stature. Tiredly, with blood on his knuckles and a small but victorious smile on his face, he retrieved the fallen bag.

He turned around and handed it to Yukio with care, a finality to his movements that suggested the righting of a wrong. He stepped carefully over the bloodied, coughing, older child, who with sobs collected his missing teeth from the rough sidewalk.

Yukio stood, taking the bag gently and staring at his toilet paper wrapped shoes.

In an uneasy silence, they walked home, Yukio far too nervous at his own inward questions to look his grinning sibling in the eye.

* * *

 _Sorry if it's a bit confusing, I didn't have time to properly proof read. But on the plus side it's a Halloween chapter! In may..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Demons in our Hearts 5**

 **10 years ago, November 6**

Outside the outdated, city enclosed monastery, early morning traffic was beginning to congest. The bitter November chill was beginning to bite at rounded faces, noses flushed red and eyes watery. A delicate layer of frost, likely to fade as the white morning light glided across the waking world, clung to the metallic fence. It stood not as a barrier of protection, but rather a pointed reminder to passersby's who might cause mischief.

The sky was a pale blue, like a milky iris, the slight overcast conjoined with a chattering breeze. Overall the day demanded coats be worn and heaters sent rattling ablaze.

Within the old, sturdy building, beyond the areas free to the public, the head priest and his two sons slept in patient reserve. It had been a long night of family games and shared laughter, their energy sucked away.

One of these boys, with midnight locks swept away from his rounded face, slowly began to wake. The small window cast a cross shaped shadow across his bed, the changing of light as pigeons fluttered past rousing him. A groggy turn, startled and disorienting, sent him toppling from his cot like bed, where he fell to the ground. The tumbled mess, a victim to the household chill without his sheets, cried out. His piercing blue eyes flashed open, hands snatching forwards to capture a fallen pillow within his arms.

A few moments of calm, regaining childish composure, and the Okumura stood. He wiggled his toes beneath his socks, twisting his body into a mighty stretch before settling into a relaxed posture.

A thought, the concept of potential wonder, zapped through his mind in a reminder, and with a gleeful giggle he patterned over to the window, standing on his tippy toes and peering out into the world. His sharp gaze searched for snow, for flakes of frozen ice small or large. There was none to be seen, and the child frowned, before turning away and abandoning his bedroom. Pillow remaining within his grasp he bounded down the hall, stopping at the railed balcony and peering through the bars. He took in the empty pews below, the unusual silence informing him of his early awakening.

He felt his heart flutter in excitement, and an idea he had been considering flickered into full light before him. What other morning would be as fitting as this? He jumped away from the bars, forgotten pillow slipping from his fingers to the floor, and he hurried to downstairs to the kitchen. It was tucked away and tiny, fitting for the little church, and it's cleanliness resulted more from lack of use than the priests work ethic. It wasn't that the holy men were lazy, they were just terrible at cooking and stuck to an unspoken agreement that they shouldn't ever do so when take out was so readily available. The child, however, was fascinated by cooking, and would watch chefs prepare their meals every chance he had. It was a quiet passion, unnoticed do to the jumbled ramblings of his age and his need for constant disciplining.

Rin dragged a chair from the dining room, moving it with a natural ease that would've been surprising to all but him. It weighed very little, the only struggle was wrapping his small hands around the wooden furniture. His socks cleared away some of the dust on the floor, tiny feet sturdy in their movements. The child placed the chair before the counter, standing atop it and reaching into the cabinet above. Tiny fingers with round, clean nails brushed against the spine of a forgotten household item. He leaned further forwards, catching the book by it's top groove and pulling it down into his arms.

He grinned victoriously, collapsing into criss-cross applesauce atop the chair and flipping through the old pages. He discovered the desired recipe, and analyzed it, chewing a piece of his long hair in thought.

The child had managed to avoid a hair cut for a month, throwing a tantrum whenever it was mentioned. This wouldn't last long, however, for the simple matter of bribery would shake his resolve.

Mind made up, he pushed the still open book utop the counter, scurrying over to the fridge. He gathered the varying ingredients, a warm smile brightening his features. It was a simple recipe, recommended for beginners, and he was determined to get it right. His wonderful family was always there for him, they were nice and good where he was a trouble maker. He was flawed and they loved him anyway. He wanted to give them something in a form of thanks, and show them that he could be of use too, just like Yukio, and that it would okay to continue keeping him.

He pulled out a bowl and two eggs, pausing in his pace to stare at the smooth shells. One a pale blue and the other a rich brown, Rin wasn't sure how to go about cracking them. He tapped one against the counter, and egg splattered everywhere, the crumbled shell sticking to his hands as he stumbled back and off the chair. He fell on his backside, surprised at how delicate they were. Like the six year old he was he rubbed the mess on his shirt, brushing his dark hair from his eyes with the same sticky hand and retrieving the second egg. This time he tapped as lightly as he could, a small crack marring the oval shell. He continued this until the shell crackled, pressing his fingers onto the weakened spots until they slid through, fingers wet and filthy, he pried open the carrier of protein, letting the yolk and the clear fluid slide messily through his finger and into the bowl. Stray pieces of shell were caught in the process, and the Okumura picked them out as best he could.

He grinned a nervous yet successful grin, moving on to the next phase.

About forty minutes of struggle, and he was left with a blackened failure, tossing it into the trash with a grin. Now the hard part was over with, he had made all the mistakes he could, and this time he was to avoid little mines.

Thirty minutes passed, and Shiro awoke to the smell of food. Curiously, the old priest journeyed downstairs, surprised delight crinkling the skin around his eyes at the sight before him. His oldest son was leaning above the counter, feet pointed on their tiptoes and a whisk in hand. He remained unseen watching his son work before leaving the room, the mist in his eyes a result from the sleep, he told himself, pride blooming in full within his chest.

He departed, his son taking a careful bite of an experimental omelet, wincing at the overly salted dish.

* * *

 **SORRY FOR THE WAIT GUYS I'VE BEEN ON VACATION AT A PLACE WITHOUT WIFI OR CELLULAR SIGNAL BUT I'M BACK NOW SO WE'RE GOLDEN. HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY NON-PROOFREAD CHAPTER, IT'S SO FREAKING HOT OUTSIDE GOD SUMMER STINKS!**

 **nicoleAnE -** Thank you for the review and the compliment! It made my day!

 **TwistedDepths8 -** You're so sweet! Thank you! Sometimes I think I go a little too far with the imagery, so I'm glad you appreciate it. It's reassuring.


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